Tiny Dancer
by ray4ruffles
Summary: It's Puck's birthday, and there's a certain blonde Rachel's sure would make it perfect. T for language
1. Chapter 1

Takes place Senior Year, second semester

Puckleberry, mention of Finnchel, Luck.

**Spoiler alert!** Shelby Corcoran is due to make an appearance in season 2, thought I have no idea when or for what, so I ran with it.

**A/N:** I'm trying to force myself to write more to push out of a writing funk, so some of these pieces are a little rough. But I liked this idea, and I love Puckleberry, so I ran with it. Also, we're pretending Puck's birthday is sometime in February.

reviews always welcome, even the not-so-nice ones

* * *

"Dammit Berry," Puck grumbled, wriggling uncomfortably from behind his blindfold. "Where the hell are we even going?"

This had to be, hands down, the dumbest thing he'd ever agreed to. He should've just walked away when she'd told him it had nothing to do with sex.

_Puck headed to his locker lost in though. It was Wednesday morning: hump day. He barely went to any of his classes anyways and he was ready for the week to be over. Although the only thing that made that different from any other week was that his birthday was Saturday, and he was stoked. Some of the guys were throwing him a party, and he was hoping to get back some of his credibility as a stud since his breakup with Lauren before break (apparently, the Sectionals curse of way too much drama had been doomed to continue into his senior year). He'd also been debating what kind of tattoo to get for the last month (he was still torn between a hot naked chick or a flaming guitar, or some combination of the two)._

_He shut his locker, only to find a glee midget staring up at him. Puck sighed, but more out of habit than anything else: being "friends" with Rachel Berry really wasn't as bad as he used to think. Since sophomore year, and all the Finn drama (thank God for the end of that soap opera), she…well, hadn't mellowed out, but more found other things to focus her obsessive drive on (like life after high school), and seemed more than willing to just relax when she was around Puck._

"_What's up, Berry?" he asked her, smirking at her expression—she looked so excited she might explode. "Did you and Tony finally hook up?"_

"_What are your plans for this weekend?" she asked him urgently, ignoring his long-running joke about her obsession with the Tony awards. He arched an eyebrow in surprise, and she seemed to realize her intense appearance, as she then took a deep breath and looked up at him with more composure. _

"_What I meant," she corrected herself. "Was that, if you were available and amenable to such a proposal, I have an activity planned to celebrate your birthday that I thought you might find particularly enjoyable—"_

"_Rache," he interrupted her: give Rachel Berry a chance and she'll talk into next century. "That's nice of you, but I got plans—party, and hook up with any chick above an 8—preferably a 9." He purposely gave her an assessing glance. "You want me to put you on the list for a ride on the Puckasaurus?" he leered, only half-joking (nobody could joke about _those_ legs)._

"_Actually, Noah," the brunette replied, rolling her eyes. "As enticing an offer that may be, I have higher aspirations in life than to be on the list of your birthday indiscretions. Regardless, this activity takes place on Sunday afternoon, so perhaps you could write a break in your schedule after noon?"_

And so he'd agreed, allowing Berry to pick him up in her little silver Prius at 11:45, taking the water and aspirin she'd brought for his slight hangover, and—at first—gratefully accepting the blindfold she'd given him, effectively blocking the light and allowing him to sleep for the first hour and a half of the trip.

Of course, the blindfold was less appreciated when he woke up and she insisted he keep it on until they arrived, even going so far as pulling over when he moved to take it off. And when she told him in no uncertain terms the trip was _not_ about sex, he'd simply flopped back into his seat and grumbled.

"For goodness sake, Noah," she chastised him. "We're almost there; show some self-restraint."

Puck was not known for his self-restraint—dating Lauren Zizes had pretty much taken all of the self-restraint he'd had, since the woman moved _slow_ and she sure as hell wasn't going to let him get some elsewhere. Go figure when he was finally getting somewhere she dumped his ass. He was almost 100% certain he had no self-restraint left.

Suddenly he felt the car turn off, and simultaneously heard Rachel announce, "Okay; we're here!"

He all but ripped off the blindfold and jumped out of the car, only to find himself in a school parking lot.

"Seriously woman?" he asked, staring at her incredulously. "Tell me you did _not_ drive me two hours to fucking Ashland to see the fucking high school glee club or some shit."

Rachel exhaled in exasperation. "I brought you here for some culture Noah," she explained. "I thought watching a performance would be beneficial to your range of experiences, and since you had nothing planned but debauchery—"

Puck pretty much tuned out her lecture at that point. He should have known Berry would waste his awesome birthday weekend by trying to expand his mind or some shit. Looking at the marquee at the school entrance, he realized that she had brought him to a ballet recital.

"Fuck no, midget," he interrupted her, crossing his arms stubbornly. "I am not throwing away the rest of my birthday watching chicks prance around in fucking tutus—shit's _not_ gonna fly."

He reached for the door, but found that the tiny brunette had already locked it and was now striding over to him, glaring daggers.

"Noah," she bit at him, "you are ruining _your_ birthday present, and you have no idea how much planning went into getting this to happen; so please, for once, just do what I ask and _trust me_."

She grabbed his arm and began dragging him toward the auditorium. He let her, and tried to think of the positives of the situation (one of the batshit crazy things she'd taught him over the last year or so that kind of worked—_there's always a positive in every negative situation, Noah_): there were bound to be some hot moms and sisters and shit in the audience. Hell, maybe he could get a couple numbers before they left.

Rachel paid for the tickets, took two programs, and found seats for them near the front. Apparently they'd been running late, because the lights dimmed as soon as they'd sat down.

And then Puck realized that not only was he at a fucking ballet show, he was at a fucking _little kid ballet show_. The girls prancing in front of him couldn't have been older than _ten_.

"Berry," he hissed. "_What_ the _fuck_?" He wasn't a dance enthusiast, and he certainly wasn't a fucking pedophile, so why the fuck were they here?

She shushed him and kept her eyes trained on the stage. He could see her mind whirring as she mentally critiqued the girls twirling in front of them, probably dividing them into "has potentials" and "should quit while their aheads". He slumped into his seat, now really annoyed with the diva sitting next to him.


	2. Chapter 2

The performances went on and on—after the ten-year olds came the six-year olds, and then some tweeners. Puck'd found it a little easier to bear by rating the instructors that introduced their groups, as well as the moms around him that he could see without turning his head too much.

_'D fuck her; fuck her; hell no_… he thought to himself, when suddenly Rachel (who probably had known he wasn't paying any attention) elbowed him hard.

"Their doing _Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy_ next," she whispered, smiling broadly and pointing to his program. "You should really watch this one."

Puck didn't want to watch the freaking sugar fairies or whatever, especially when he realized a bunch of toddlers were prancing onto the stage. Then he heard a very familiar voice.

"The next performance is our beginner B class, ages 2-5," a hot brunette instructor announced. She looked so damn familiar—how did Puck know her? "They will be dancing to _Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy_."

He was still trying to figure out if maybe he'd banged the instructor when the dance started. The teacher didn't leave the stage, watching her kids and guiding their moves, so he was able to stare at her for awhile. She looked good for her age: long brown hair, legs that went on for miles. Puck smirked: she kind of looked like an older version of—

_Shit_. His eyes went wide, and then snapped back toward the tiny dancers. He scanned each one of them quickly, until he caught sight of her.

A bubbly blonde was twirling around in a pink tutu covered with gold stars. Small as she was, she had to be the youngest in the group (just shy of two), but she was all smiles as she stomped her feet and waved her arms around her head with the rest of the class.

He watched her dance, entranced by the little girl bouncing around in front of him. He took in every detail: her cornsilk hair, her bright blue eyes, her perfect pale skin and rosy cheeks. There wasn't a lot of him in her, he could see that—maybe a little in the cheekbones, but she really was mostly Quinn. Regardless, Beth Corcoran was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

The music ended, and Shelby, Beth, and the other kids bowed and ran off stage. Puck almost took off after them; he'd only seen her for a couple minutes. He looked to Rachel, his face completely awestruck, and she responded by gently placing her hand on his arm and smiled softly before turning back to the stage.

* * *

There were a couple more performances before the lights came back on, but Puck didn't see them. He couldn't see anything except the little girl dancing in a star-covered tutu in his mind. When the lights came on, he jumped out of his seat.

Rachel held his arm to keep him from bolting, and slowly guided him toward the exit. She didn't say a word, and he was too filled with questions to even know where to start.

They made their way outside, and Puck saw Shelby Corcoran and her daughter (_his_ daughter) Beth bundled up and waiting. He felt Rachel let go of his hand and approach her mother while he stood there, still too stunned to speak as the little girl, bundled to the nines, bounced around the sidewalk in the snow.

"Beth!" Shelby called a moment (or was it minutes?) later, and he realized Rachel had rejoined him and was now leading him to her car. It wasn't until they were in the safety of her Prius that his ability to speak returned in full force.

"Wait!" he told her, flipping to face the window, scanning the lot for the pair. "I didn't even get to say anything—just stood there like a fucking idiot. I need to talk to her; I need to hear her—" he sounded like such a chick, but he didn't even care. His little girl was somewhere close, and he wanted, no he _needed_, to see her again.

"Noah, calm down," Rachel instructed, pulling him back into his seat. "I was just about to inform you that, if it was something you wanted, Shelby has agreed to meet us at the McDonald's down the street for an early dinner."

Puck leaned back in relief, nodding gratefully. He was quiet a moment, lost in thought as his friend pulled out of the parking lot and turned down the street.

The silence didn't last long. "That was Beth." He stated; regardless of how stupid it sounded, he wanted to make sure it was real.

"That was Beth," the brunette affirmed. She sat up a little straighter in her seat, and Puck realized she'd been waiting for him to speak.

"How is she?" he asked. He'd wondered that every day since he let her go and didn't think he could wait any longer to know.

"She's doing quite well, I believe. Shelby has enrolled her in a wonderful daycare, as well as ballet and singing lessons, which apparently she has taken a shining to. She is a very energetic child, from what I've been told, and seems to be developing at a rate well above-average."

Leave it to Berry to make all of this seem so normal, so everyday. Puck wasn't done though.

"What's she like?"

"According to Shelby, she's smart, talented, creative, as well as a plethora of other characteristics that make her quite perfect. I suppose for a more personal opinion you'll have to see for yourself."

"How'd you set this up anyways?" Since when did Rachel know how to get a hold of Shelby?

Rachel bit her lip. "I found out that Shelby had moved to Ashland with Beth when she came to see me last year. She left her number, although we still don't speak much. When I was considering what to do for your birthday, I called her and asked for this favor, and she informed me of the recital this weekend."

"Huh." Puck hadn't really thought about Shelby's sudden reappearance (and disappearance) into Rachel's life junior year—he'd had his own shit going on. He let his mind wander back to the little girl he was going to see. "She's so beautiful."

"Yes," she smiled. "She does look very much like Quinn, which will probably cause quite some trouble when she's of dating age."

Yeah; she really did seem like Quinn, when Puck thought about it. Talented, beautiful, all that shit. He worried whether there was any of him in there besides cheekbones.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," he thought out loud. If she had all this great stuff going for her, he didn't want to screw any of it up.

Rachel looked over to him and parked the car. He hadn't even realized that they'd arrived.

"Of course no one is going to force you to do this Noah," she told him gently. "In fact, I would have been surprised if you didn't have any doubts. However, I think that it is worth considering that you've already come this far, and, being almost two, she's not exactly going to be judgmental about you being here."

She opened her door and swiveled her body to exit. "I have to go in—they're expecting me. If you wish, you can come with or stay here the whole time."

Rachel strode off toward the restaurant, and Puck leaned back in the passenger seat. He berated himself for being such a pansy, but that didn't stop him from being scared shitless about walking through those doors. As much as he wanted to meet that little girl, he wasn't sure he could handle the guilt of staring into her eyes, knowing he'd given her up.

But goddamn, if he didn't take his chance to see her now, he didn't know if there'd be another. He groaned at his own stupidity, and threw open the door, racing after his midget friend.

* * *

It had to be the best hour of Puck's life. After introductions (a simple, "Beth this is Rachel and Noah" was what Shelby had decided on), Rachel and Shelby had spent their time at the table, eating their salads and making small chitchat, while the tiny blonde bolted her Chicken McNuggets down and asked to play. Her mother had nodded, suggesting she take Noah with her, Puck, not having been able to eat anything anyways, took Rachel's meaningful nudge to heart and followed after Beth as she bounced off toward the playground.

She was damn smart; there was no doubt about that. Probably the smartest two-year old in the world: she pulled off her little Uggs and placed them and Puck's boots (that he'd pulled off at her pointed look) neatly in the cubby hole, and then took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. Puck could barely fit inside, but he made sure to follow her as best he could.

When she got tired of sliding and climbing, she toddled into the ball pit and began flinging the balls around her. He followed after her and watched as she became enthralled with the different colors, picking them up and handing them to him to hold. He smiled and watched as she decided between the different balls.

The best moment, though, came about two minutes later, when Shelby and Rachel walked into the play area to call them in. Puck turned to respond, only to have a ball smashed into his face by a little hand. He turned in surprise and watched, stunned, as the tiny girl distinctly arched her eyebrow and smirked a very familiar smirk at him.

In that moment he saw himself, and he happily realized that although she may be mostly Quinn and Berry (can't discount nurture, after all), there was a chunk of undeniable badass, of _him_, in her as well, and he scooped her up into a hug, which she happily returned, giggling the whole time.

The ride back was quiet, unusual for Rachel Berry, but necessary for the time being. Puck was committing every moment to memory, and holding onto the envelope that Shelby had handed him with a simple "Happy Birthday Noah" on the way out. Inside were copies of pictures—messy pictures and smiling pictures and birthday pictures and pieces of time that he was so glad that she'd been taken care of for, that she'd been happy for. It sucked that he wasn't there, but he felt he could forgive himself a little since she seemed so happy where she was.

It was dark when they pulled into his driveway. His cell phone, which he'd turned off at Rachel's insistence when she'd picked him up, was overflowing with messages from teammates, friends, girls: wishing him happy birthday, trying to make plans, get drunk, get laid. All thoughts on high school and—what did Rachel call it?—_the superficiality of inconsequential moments._

He put his phone back in his pocket and looked up to see Rachel looking at him.

"Happy Birthday Noah," she told him.

He paused as he looked at her. "Why'd you do this Berry?"

Her eyes widened, face flushed as she looked down. "I'm sorry;" she told him sheepishly. "I didn't mean to overstep my bounds with my gift, I just—"

But Puck interrupted, his mind suddenly off of Beth and whirring like crazy on something he felt he should have picked up on before. "No, I mean—we're friends, sort of, but why would you set up something like that with Shelby? I mean, you said you weren't really talking." More than that—Shelby had stomped all over Rachel's psyche over the last two years, and considering she didn't even introduce Rachel to Beth as her sister, this whole day had to sting for her.

If possible, the brunette's face blushed an even deeper red. "I just thought it would be a nice gesture—"

"Rachel," Puck insisted, pulling her face upwards so that her eyes met his.

"With everything that's been happening this year, including the unfortunate incident with Lauren, I just...I know that you worry. You worry about who you are, what your future is; and I know you worry most about ruining everything you have by emulating your father, and I wanted to show you that, despite certain…similarities in your personality, such as a lack of respect for authority and a penchant for illicit substances, there is at least one significant difference between the two of you."

"And that is?"

Rachel met his eyes intently. " You gave up Beth because it was best for her, and you wanted that; but you never stopped wanting to be part of her life. I know you Noah: no matter where you go- _and you will go far_- you'll never stop wanting that."

Puck looked at his friend, and realized how much pain today must have been for her—Shelby gave her up without thinking twice, only to reappear shortly before changing her mind again. The pictures, the phone number that Shelby left him with so he could stay in contact with his daughter—Rachel was giving Beth an opportunity that she would never get.

He reached over and pulled the girl close. "Thanks Rache," he whispered, kissing her hair softly. "Best birthday ever."


End file.
